Rumbelle Story Collection
by MoonStarDutchess
Summary: A collection of Rumbelle stories of different genres.
1. Story 1: Her Thunder and Lightning

**Story 1: Her Thunder and Lightning**

 **Author: MoonStarDutchess**

 **Spanish Version by Rinoax**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time and gain nothing but writing practice with my tinkering.**

 **AN: This is cross-posted on my account over at a03. MoonStarDutchess  
**

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The wind blew hard enough to slam the rain against the windows, making noises more akin to hail than mere raindrops. Belle had all the lamps in her room turned on: the ones on each side of her bed, one beside the door and one that sat on her dresser. The room was draped in a creepy blue tint, and the light cast jagged shadows much like the ones she saw during her time in the asylum.

The only difference was the smell. The asylum felt cold and smelled moldy. This room smelled of lavender —Rumpelstiltskin said it would help her sleep — and was much warmer than her previous residence. She pulled the blankets over her as thunder exploded and shook the house. Or was she the one shaking?

She hadn't heard storms like this when she was in the hospital. Every noise had been dulled to perfection and without the capability to cause some, she might've gone mad. She even got to the point when she would look forward to the occasional click when Regina lifted the tiny latch in the door to peer in on her.

She jumped when another crack of thunder sounded and sat straight in her bed. Her eyes gazed around the room, looking for someone, even though she knew if anyone were there, it would be Rum. She was safe here. Rum was right down the hall, and she knew he'd go through hell to keep anyone from getting her and taking her back.

She kept repeating that she was safe, a mantra that she whispered every time she woke with nightmares, or couldn't sleep, or this old house creaked on its foundation. A storm was new and the same mantra should've worked. But it didn't. Her shoulders tightened when lightning flashed outside her window and yet another clap of thunder jarred the house.

She clutched the covers and took deep breaths, trying to keep her panic under control. She used every technique that Doctor Hopper suggested to use when she felt an attack coming on. Nothing worked. Why wasn't it working?

When the lights flickered then went out, Belle screamed and grabbed her head, the thunder drowning out her voice. She needed Rum, but that meant she had to venture into the hallway where it was pitch black. It was either face the darkness and find Rumple or sit alone in the room, surrounded by four walls and hugged by her fear instead of him.

She inhaled and exhaled several times before throwing the covers off her. She didn't bother putting on her slippers, she wouldn't know where they were in the dark anyway, and carefully made her way to the wall where she knew the door was located. She felt around until she found the knob and turned it, revealing the dark hallway. She took another deep breath, her heart beat increasing to the point she could hear the thumps in her ears and feel her pulse in her neck without having to touch it.

 _Do the brave thing and bravery will follow._

That'd been her motto and she wanted to follow it, but there was a difference between that time and now. It was much easier to be brave if others were at risk. It was just her now, so she had to reach inside herself and—she jumped when more thunder yelled at her, as if forcing her out into the darkness.

The first step was always the hardest. She remembered her mother saying that so long ago.

She took a step, going from a carpeted floor onto a hardwood one. It was cold and the chill went from the bottom of her feet, all the way up her leg. She gripped the side of the wall and slid her hands along it as she made her way down the long hallway to the master bedroom. Lightning flashed, showing the sparse items in the hallway for just a moment, as if assisting her in navigation. She could picture thunder and lightning fighting against each other.

Thunder, the one that could do her less harm, wanted to scare her. Lightning, a natural occurrence that could kill her, assisted her. Thunder and lightning was so much like Rumple. Rum never wanted to hurt her, but there were times that he still scared her (she'd never tell him that). He could hurt her but only had once, in the heat of anger when he'd gripped her too hard.

That thought gave her the courage to continue the journey toward her own thunder and lightning. She paused, waited for the lightning flash, and navigated around the furniture she'd saw just moments before. The thunder wasn't so scary now that she could focus on the guidance the lightning gave her.

She arrived at her destination and reached for the knob, the lightning flashed and gave her enough time to reach down and grab the handle. She turned it and the door squeaked open.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she said and cursed as the thunder cracked when she spoke. It was an annoying interrupter. He didn't move and it puzzled her as to how he slept through this when Rum back in their old world rarely slept. Perhaps it was more of his humanity poking through. He was more Mister Gold than The Dark One. She had no idea of what pre-Dark One Rumple was like, but she knew Rum didn't have a high opinion of his old self.

She walked over to his bed and crawled upon the soft mattress. "Rumpelstiltskin?" she said and placed a hand on his shoulder. She heard a groan and he sat up.

"Belle?" He reached toward his bedside table.

"The magic light balls ran out of oil," she said.

She couldn't make out his face but could still feel his eyes on her. He reached up and touched her cheek. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "I was terrified."

Something sparked in his hand then flew across the room. Her gaze followed it and rested on an old-fashioned oil lamp that came to life with a tiny flame then adjusted on its own. Her eyes went back to Rum.

"I'll be sure to get you some of those lamps first thing in the morning. You can take that one to your room if —"

"Can I stay here with you?" He looked surprised for a moment then his expression turned to one of wonder. She looked down at her lap and fisted her hand in his blankets this time. "It's cold in there and I couldn't sleep. The room reminded me of that place, and your bed is really big and I thought you might get lonely so I came."

Part of that was a lie. She was the one who was scared and lonely, and from the way he smiled at her, she could tell he knew that as well.

"Of course you can."

She got under the covers with him and watched as he slowly lay back down. She sighed and moved to rest on her side. When her eyes closed, she heard the thunder yelling its protest. On the second clap, she opened her eyes and looked at Rumple.

His eyes were shut and he was lying on his back. His body appeared stiff, like someone had starched it, and he seemed so far from her even though he was less than a foot away. She shivered as cool air hit her bare arms and knew of only one way to warm them. Well, not the only way, but the best way.

 _Do the brave thing._

She moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest. His eyes flew open and he looked down at her. She slid her arm around his stomach. "You looked cold."

"I was, dearie. Quite cold." He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. She snuggled her face against his warm pajamas as blankets came up around them. They both relaxed.

 _Brave thing._

"Rumple, can you turn off the lights?"

They went out in an instant and she cuddled closer to him, feeling loved and protected by her own personal thunder and lightning.


	2. Story 2: Crack in the Wall

**Story 2: Crack in the Wall**

 **Author: MoonStarDutchess**

 **This is also part of a series by my good friend Rinoaebastel called Missing Moments and Quotidian Things. You can find the series on fanfiction site Archive of Our Own. This used to be posted on the site under this same account as a oneshot but I decided to take it off and put it in a collection instead.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time and this fiction is written only as an expression of dedication to this pairing and fandom. It's a noncommercial work and not a product of the original owners. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of original characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.**

 **An: This was originally the beginning of a more comedic Rumbelle but when it became more serious, I couldn't use it for that. I was questioning whether to post it or not since, it came so randomly but decided in the end that there's no use leaving it on my computer. This takes place before my fic called Drugstore Dilemma which will be posted after this.**

* * *

Belle grasped the cloth of her dress and gave it a gentle tug, hoping the hem would go a bit lower than her knees so she wouldn't feel half-naked. A dress like this would be scandalous in her world. In fact, wouldn't even make a suitable nightgown for the marriage bed.

But she wasn't in her world and in this new place—an amazing environment that she'd been unfairly locked away from—it was common to see women wearing these dresses. Some even revealing more leg skin than she was. With the short dresses came odd feelings for her: jealousy mixed with her ever-present curiosity. She occasionally glanced at Rumpelstiltskin, from the corner of her eyes so he wouldn't notice, and studied the way he reacted to women who were dressed like herself.

He'd been living out here for the past twenty-eight years, seeing all these women in their short skirts and shorts, so she was curious about his reaction to them. She was surprised that he hadn't spared a glance in their direction, looking more as if doing so would waste his time. Her clothing was nowhere near as attractive or revealing as the women they passed, but when she'd walked out of the dressing room in the clothes shop, he'd looked at her as if she was a goddess. After receiving a look like that, she didn't have the heart or desire to tell him she wasn't comfortable. Though she doubted she'd be comfortable with much of anything after being locked away so long behind those horrible walls. Walls that kept her away from him and the world for so long.

If she dressed like everyone else, she'd fit in. If she fit in, she wouldn't be trapped again. And it wasn't as if people would find her odd and out of place in these clothes. Not by appearance anyway. All the women on the pictures in the shop were dressed in less than she was. One was even in her undergarments: what little there were of them. That would take some getting used to, but it was a wonderful thing this world had going for it: less layers and the clothing was lighter. But that incident only added to her confusion regarding Rum's interests. His reaction was puzzling. He hadn't even looked at the poster of the woman in her underwear and just asked the shop girl to help her choose a nice dress and other feminine necessities.

Even though he'd argue over it with her until his face changed color, Rumpelstiltskin was a man, and she wasn't so innocent and naïf to not know the effects bare skin had on the male gender. However, she could only apply it to men in her world, where a show of the uncovered ankle or calf was a rare treat for a man lucky enough to catch a glimpse. Men in this world must be more desensitized to flesh. She shuddered to think of what women did to actually catch the attention of a man now.

Two more women passed them, and once again, Rumpel paid them no mind despite both being prettier than she was. She didn't put a lot of value into looks, but it didn't help her self-esteem to know that her hair wasn't as tidy as it could be; it would take a while to straighten that up. Her skin was so dry it flaked. The dark circles under her eyes made her resemble a raccoon, and not the cute kind but one that looked like it'd been attacked viciously by whoever did Regina's makeup. The pretty dress Rumple bought for her did little to hide her imperfections, and she felt as if her entire body screamed that she belonged locked up because she couldn't assimilate.

When a couple approached them, and she saw they were going to pass on her side, she moved closer to Rum. She was still wary of other people, especially when they looked as if they wanted to hurt someone. The night she'd stormed out of his shop, the day they had reunited in this world, she hadn't realized she might bump into someone until she was halfway down the street. By that time, her stubborn nature had kicked in and kept her from immediately running back to the protection of the man she loved and the sturdy walls of his shop.

The people passed and shot Rum a look that made her tremble. Their looks were full of hatred that even Regina at her cruelest never displayed. They ignored her.

He must've sensed her insecurity because he moved his arm tighter against his body and gave her arm a light squeeze. She reached up and placed her hand atop his forearm in a silent thank you. She took comfort in the warmth and smell of hazelnut and Spicewood that always seemed to radiate off this particular form of his. She wanted to keep close to him to prevent anyone from snatching her away and locking her up among those walls again.

She wanted to take in everything about this new world and adapt to the wonders around her. While everyone else wanted to go back home, she wanted to explore. This desire that she'd never voice would make her an unknown oddity in the town, but that was something she was rather used to and found strangely comforting.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he guided her across the street when a car stopped at a weird hanging light thing.

"A drugstore. We're going to get you some things you're going to need."

She looked up at him. "But you've bought me so much today. Do I truly need anything else?"

He let a soft smile come to his lips. "There are things we need to get at a drugstore that we can't get in the clothing shops, dearest."

"Oh. Like drugs?" she asked then instantly felt stupid for saying something so obvious. If he were amused or frustrated with the comment, he showed no signs of it. In the past days he was so patient with all the random questions she'd asked in the past days, and quite different from the Dark One back at the castle.

"Yes, but I don't think you need drugs."

She shivered. She never wanted to take another drug as long as she lived. She wouldn't be exaggerating to say that, during her stay in the asylum, she probably had every type of drug this world made. It was part of Regina's torture. "Why didn't you become one?"

"Become a what?"

"A drugstore owner. I remember you used to mix all those concoctions in your laboratory. They healed wounds so well." And probably did far more things that she'd rather not think of. Then she wondered if he'd actually had a choice in the matter of work he did in this world. This was a curse after all.

"You mean a pharm—apothecary."

"Yes."

"A lawyer seemed a more suitable occupation," he said. "I make a good liar."

"You don't lie. You just leave things out." It was the truth. She'd never actually caught him in a lie. From what she learned about his deals, he never lied to those people and always warned that whatever they wanted would come at a price. If not at the present time, then somewhere in the future. He was evil, she wouldn't be stupid enough to deny that, but people chose to accept his deals even though they were aware of the reputation that rested upon his shoulders like a fur mantel.

That didn't mean she agreed with his twisting on the truth, and she certainly didn't like it, but she tolerated it for now. He was trying to change and that said something about his love for her.

"That I do." He looked pleased that she noticed. Even though his appearance was vastly different from what she knew in the past, she could hear the same lilts in his voice; see the same expressions that wore their way on his face. He was handsome, if not better looking, than he was in their original world, and just as enthralling as well. Not attractive in a Gaston way, no, she didn't like that sort of attractiveness. He was attractive in ways of the mind. From the moment he spoke, even with high pitched, childlike voice, she could feel the intelligence in him. The experience. With the way he gestured about a room as if floating on air, charmed her. The way he ran his hand along his spinning wheel put thoughts in her mind that a lady shouldn't have. Even with the limp and this more human-like form, he held that sort of awe that was to be respected, and to some, reviled.

The cane he used in this world only added to his charm, reminding her of a hero from books that had come back from saving people from a war. Of course, her Rum wouldn't save anyone in a war without a deal. She was evidence of that, though she was now sure he'd save her in a war without hesitation. Without so much as mentioning a deal.

"Did you look the way you do now?" she asked before she realized the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"As a normal man in our world, did you look the way you do now?"

When he tensed, she felt bad for being the cause. He took a deep, but quick, breath as if he didn't want her to know she'd caught him by surprise. He never told her about himself before he was the Dark One other than a bit of information about losing his wife and son. His appearance was a safe topic since there was no need to "spill his guts" as the therapy lady on the radio said.

"I was more humped over I suppose," he said. "I hardly remember anything about my appearance. Mirrors weren't readily available to my particular status."

"I think you're handsome," she said and looked for a blush. It didn't come but he did look away from her for a few seconds.

"You have bad taste, dearie," he finally said. "First you fall for the beast in our world, all greenish and scaly looking. Now you say that about a crippled old man."

"You are not old," she said and rested her head on his upper arm.

She opened her mouth to ask another question but hesitated. He must have noticed because he said, "Go ahead."

"Did you have the limp in our world before you were the Dark One, or was it something you got here?"

"I had it in our world before I was the Dark One. The limp I have now is more medically stable than the one I had yea—centuries ago."

She didn't know why the mention of his age still caught her off-guard. She knew he was far older than he appeared. A twenty-year age difference that most women in court complained about was nothing compared to their age difference. She remembered complaining about ages when her father was speaking of suitors. When she fell in love with someone that lived hundreds of her lifetimes, she'd realized it truly didn't matter.

Sometimes she even forgot he was the Dark One.

"And I was much weaker," she heard him mutter.

And that word at the end of his sentence, the one that made his voice crack ever so slightly, was part of the many reasons she sometimes forgot who he was. He could see nothing but his weakness and why he was so unworthy of things that made him happy. She sensed the guilt underneath the surface, beneath what made him the Dark One. She felt the Dark One was merely a magnification, with magic, of evil already present. Evil that every single person carried somewhere in their body; including the so-called perfect residents of Storybrooke. With evil, there was usually the spark of good. Rum had it in the love of his son, and in his love for her. She'd be that constant good in his life as much as she was able.

He refused to admit the weakness was also there in the very thing he thought made him stronger. His magic. It was there like a ghostly possession in the insecurities he let her see. It caused a wall to form around him that would take most of her time and patience to break down.

So far, she seemed to be succeeding.

She'd made a crack in the wall that she would continue to hammer at until she got to the real him. The man before the power, the strange skin, and the semi-closed and clearly broken heart.

She'd break down the walls that captured him, just as he was keeping her out of the walls that once contained her. And when she did, she'd be there to make sure he'd survive without them.


	3. Story 3: Drugstore Dilemma

**Story 3: Drugstore Dilemma  
**

 **Author: MoonStarDutchess**

 **AN: This is also part of a series by my good friend Rinoaebastel called Missing Moments and Quotidian Things. You can find the series on fanfiction site Archive of Our Own. This used to be posted on the site under this same account as a two part but I decided to take it off and put it in a collection instead.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time and this fiction is written only as an expression of dedication to this pairing and fandom. It's a noncommercial work and not a product of the original owners. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of original characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.**

* * *

He'd be the last person to admit when he felt uneasy. Not that he'd have to when around Belle. She had the extraordinary capability of reading the majority of his emotions even when his face was that of a poker player going all out in a game when possessing an insubstantial hand.

Thankfully, she chose to say no more as he opened the door to the pharmacy and let her enter first. She let go of his arm and immediately grabbed his hand in a tight grasp before entering, not loosening her grip for a moment.

When he moved to stand beside her, he noticed the amazement on her face. She had the same wonderment when they entered the clothing store. It was amusing, but not as amusing as her face when she took an odd liking to several pairs of stilettos. Considering the way her legs looked in those shoes, he'd discovered a new love for the footwear as well.

He took a small blue basket from a holder beside the door and walked ahead of her. "Come on, Dear." He guided her through each of the aisles even though there was nothing they needed in them. He wanted her to get a grasp of the surroundings and to sate her curiosity. One aisle made her stop, and he turned to her.

"See something you want?" he asked. He was amused at how she stared at the wall before them like an amazed child.

"No," she said. An obvious lie. "It's just. . . Once, my father and I went to visit a neighboring kingdom. Their specialty was confections. He took me to a candy shop and this part of the shop reminds me of it."

He heard the longing in her voice. It was odd for him to hear about Maurice being a good father. He'd been nervous when he told her about his actions regarding her father and the "cup" incident, but she'd taken it much better than he expected. Her father had turned her out when she'd gone back, but the things Regina said about the clerics hadn't been true. She'd scolded him more for losing his temper and giving into the dark rather than the beating her father part. Though she wasn't exactly joyous over hearing that, she said she might've done the same thing if the positions had been reversed. He doubted that because his Belle was far too kind.

She laughed. "I had a stomach ache for the next few days."

"And was it worth it?" he asked.

She nodded. "It was."

He pulled her closer to the wall of confections. "Pick out something." In additions to various items in this new world, Belle was fascinated by the variety of foods available. Her reaction to pizza was comparable to the way one would act if they discovered the Holy Grail.

She looked up at him. "Show me your favorite."

He thought for a moment. He didn't eat much candy, but there was one in particular he found himself craving once in a while. He lifted his cane and pointed to a package of light brown squares in a plastic see through container. "Peanut butter fudge." She got a container and put it in the basket. He grinned. "Pick something you're curious about and we'll try it."

She bit her bottom lip and looked around on the shelf. He could almost guess which she'd pick since her sights went in that direction. Coffee turron. She'd instantly developed a love for coffee on the level that nearly rivaled her newly beloved ice tea and had been intrigued by the little coffee candies he kept on the counter in the kitchen.

Sure enough, she picked it up and showed it to him. "Have you tried it?"

"Can't say I have, put it in the basket. We'll pick up some more coffee on the way home as well."

She smiled and they continued their journey through the store. He pointed out things as they passed, telling her what they were for, until he stopped at something they needed. He started to speak when she cut him off with an excited voice and said, "Look! Mini hairbrushes! They're so cute."

He chuckled. "Those are tooth brushes."

She blinked and her face shifted into that vapid look she possessed when confused. "Teeth don't have hair."

He looked at her oddly _. Surely they…_ "They didn't give you a toothbrush in that place?"

"They wouldn't even give me a spoon." She hugged his arm. "That's over now though," she said with confident sternness, a surefire signal to him that he shouldn't dwell on what happened to her. That she too was trying not to dwell.

"Oh, yes it is," he said while pushing back the anger that bubbled forth. If he didn't restrain it and lock it up, he'd find Regina and shove every apple in her tree down her throat until she choked. He took a shuddering breath and nodded toward the wall, indicating she should choose a brush. "Pick one."

Her eyes roved the selection and she finally settled on a gold one with blue and white trimming decorating the edges. His color. Their colors.

"Now you need toothpaste."

"Paste?"

"It's just a thick substance that you put on the brush to help clean your teeth."

"It's sticky?"

"It can be yes, but it foams up and you just spit it out and rinse out your mouth after you're done brushing. It gets rid of plague on your teeth"

She huffed and looked away from him. "My teeth are real, thank you very much."

He stared at her, brows furrowed and his mouth slightly open. The crinkles at his eyes that usually conveyed his amusement were drawn tighter together, indicating incredulousness and confusion. "Wha?" he said, unable to finish the "t" at the end of the word.

"You said it gets rid of the plaque. My teeth are real."

When he finally understood what she meant, he said, "I wasn't implying that your teeth were plaques, Sweetheart. This stuff cleans your teeth of the food pieces after you eat it. Like you do back home with those flat sticks. The particles left behind can cause something called plaque."

"Oh," she said and gave a short giggle.

He grinned at her sheepish smile and picked a box of toothpaste up off the shelf. "Vanilla?"

She nodded and he led her down yet another small aisle. "Wow, so many potions, but the bottles are different than the ones you had in your workroom."

"This is shampoo and conditioner."

"What's it for? Laundry? The shampoo is for shams and the conditioners are for… I don't remember anything in the laundry called a conditioner."

"No," he said trying to hide another laugh. It'd been so long since he had a genuine one. His laughs were almost never out of amusement but rather out of an intense desire to make someone nervous.

She blinked. "Oh, these are potions to find out if your deals are honest or not?"

"Pardon?"

"If they're a sham or not? If they are then they can just go poo themselves. And the conditioners are for those deals where you need specific conditions."

If his Belle were to find a career for herself in this world he was sure a writer would fit her amazingly well. Some of her thoughts were the most creative things he'd ever heard. He let out the laugh he was holding in, loud at first, then in little chuckles. He ducked his head away from her.

"Stop laughing. I really don't know what this stuff is. I admit I was being silly with the poo thing, but you can hardly blame me for not knowing these things."

He reached up and stroked a strand of her hair. "Shampoo is for washing your hair. The conditioner keeps it soft and healthy."

She reached up to touch his hair. "Is it what you use on your floof?"

"My . . . floof?"

"That's my name for your hair. It's lovely and floofy. It looked like this pretty, long-haired dog I saw walking down the street the other day. The lady said it was an Afghan hound."

He couldn't recall ever seeing a dog called that, so he took out his phone and looked up the dog breed. Much to his surprise, the dog did look like him. "Floof," he muttered and shook his head at the name before sticking the phone back into his coat pocket and focusing back on the shelf. "What scent of shampoo do you want?"

She browsed the concoctions before shrugging. "I don't know. You pick one that you like."

He looked over the bottles and kept in mind an important thing he did as he chose the shampoo. When he was sure that she was asleep, he would often bury his face in her hair and relax. It let him know she was there and alive and one-hundred percent his Belle. He chose two red bottles with a picture of a rose on each one.

She smiled. "I knew you'd pick that one."

"I do hope it smells like a flower rather than Gaston. I could smell him for miles when he arrived at the castle. I suppose that happens when one rides a horse for so long without bathing."

She looked up at him. "Gaston came to the castle?"

"Ah, I forgot to tell you about that. But you understand he wasn't foremost on my mind most of the time."

"Of course, but why in the world would rose shampoo smell like…" Her eyes widened. Oh, Rumple! Rumple, you didn't!"

"Didn't what, Dear?" He bit the corner of his jaw to keep from grinning.

"That wasn't a lady selling roses at the door to the dark castle, was it?"

"Surely, you'd figure out a lady, especially an old experienced one, would have enough sense not to come to the door of my home."

"You turned Gaston into a rose?"

"I admit it. Yes, I turned him into that rose."

She lifted her hand to her mouth and gasped. "My god! I cut part of him off!" She reached up and grabbed the collar of his coat, but not in a violent manner. "What part did I cut?"

He remembered that day quite well, and he'd had to withhold a grunt of pain as soon as he heard the snip. "I would say it's a part most men don't want to be without."

She dropped her eyes and looked devastated. "I cut off his legs."

He raised an eyebrow. Ah, his innocent little Belle. She was knowledgeable but slow at times. "That wasn't what I was referring too."

She tilted her head and he could almost see the cogs in her brain processing her words. She leaped back and yelled, "I turned him into a eunuch!"

Gold forced himself not to cringe as the small amount of shoppers in the store stared. Instead, he glared at each of them, giving his, "I'll raise your rent" look. He figured the majority of the shoppers were his tenants. When the people immediately went back to their browsing, he knew he was right in his assumption.

He looked down when Belle buried her face against his chest. "I feel just horrible."

His hand moved to her lower back. "There, there, Dear. Look at it this way, at least now he won't get confused on what head to think with."

She stilled for a moment before raising her head and resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. "That's horrible and not funny," she said even though he heard the slightest chuckle slip out with her speech. "Is he alive here in Storybrooke? Is he okay?"

Gold shrugged. "Yes, I would say he is. If you count all the roses in the park as being his offspring, I would say he's spread his seed quite a bit."

"Rum," she said. "That's not funny either."

He leaned down, resisting the urge to kiss the amusement off her lips. "If it's not funny, then why are you holding back a laugh?"

She blushed and turned away from him. "Are we done?"

"I suppose. Unless you see something else you want."

She looked around and her eyes widened. "Look!" She pointed at an aisle and went toward it, not staying more than a few feet away from him. He followed her. If he were the type to pale, which was something he would not acknowledge that he did even if it happened, he would have.

"She pointed at the box "There are lakes around here?" She looked back at him, eyes twinkling with excitement. "Can we go catch tarpons with those?"

Gold opened his mouth to respond but found his words had been blown away with the thick stream of heat shooting down from the vent above him.

"Those are tampons, Belle." Tampons had existed in their world but they went by a different name, well they had no name, but mostly peasants used them. Belle was a wealthy merchant's daughter so wasn't at liberty to use a device that was stuck up her… He shook his head. He didn't want to think about things like that. "I'll take you fishing but not with those. That's not what they're for."

He'd hoped she'd drop the subject, but he should've known better. Oh no, if his Belle had a question, she'd ask it. It was both endearing and a pain in the ass. "What are they for then?"

"It's not the kind of thing I should talk to you about, Dearie." _It's time to call in my favor to Miss Swan when she gets back._ "I'll get someone else to tell you when—"

"I want to hear it from you," she said.

 _For the love of . . ._ If he didn't love her so much, he'd be scolding her for pushing it. "Your menses," he said quickly and quietly. "They're for your menses."

"Oh," she turned back to look at the boxes and tilted her head. "How do they work?"

"Bloody hell," he muttered. Men didn't talk to women about this in their world, and though it wasn't as taboo now, it certainly wasn't something the male gender was one-hundred percent comfortable discussing in this time either. Thankfully, there was something in this world that was a great asset in situations like this. He removed his Smartphone from his pocket and went to Google. After a quick search, he found a diagram and handed the phone to her. "Read that." At least Regina had the sense to include cell phones and internet in their town.

She stared down at the small screen, her face painted with amazement. He'd shown her the phone before, and she was still enraptured by the device. He'd already checked into buying her one and teaching her how to use it. She gasped. "Inside. So they're like a menses pad for inside the body."

He thought she'd be a bit more disturbed. "That's right."

"So fascinating. How handy and probably a lot more comfortable."

"You mean you don't find it . . . intrusive?"

She got a mischievous grin on her face and leaned closer. "I've had bigger things there," she whispered.

And . . . he hadn't been prepared quite enough. He braced his cane harder against the floor to keep from falling over. Who would've thought his Belle would say something like that. She looked back down at his phone, read for a while and then grabbed a box of normal sized tampons. "Can I try them?"

"Dearie, it's your body," Gold said, feeling his cheeks heat up over her asking permission to do such a thing.

She put them in the basket. "Okay."

"There's a favor saved at least," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing important."

She turned off his Smartphone and reached in his jacket to put it back into the inner coat pocket. She let her fingers drift across his chest teasingly as her hand left his coat. This world had already corrupted her, but he couldn't say he was sorry if this was the type of corruption.

"We should leave," she said and giggled. "I can tell you're embarrassed."

They started walking toward the checkout counter. "I'm not embarrassed, I'm just surpri—" He jerked to a stop when she stopped.

"So those are condoms? I wasn't expecting them to be in boxes and bought in public."

Gold turned and as his eyes hit what she was looking at, he felt like his body was moving in slow motion. Condoms. How did she know about those and not about tampons? They weren't something a lady knew about either.

"I read about those in some books Ruby lent me. I thought they were fiction but they really exist." She turned to him and blinked. "You used them at the times we. . . "

"Yes."

"Wow, you had me so distracted I didn't notice." She smiled widely. "You have enough to last us?"

Upon hearing glass shatter, he looked in the direction the noise came from and saw Sneezy and a woman he didn't know standing there with their mouths agape and eyes widened. The lady had dropped a large glass jar of vitamins; the small pills rolled along the floor creating a slipping hazard.

"Alright then," she said as if there was no reason to be shy. When he thought about it, there really wasn't. He had a beautiful woman with him and was able to freely make love to her.

They walked over to the register, and Sneezy rushed around the counter to check them out. That dwarf had been the one to cross the barrier, and if it weren't for him, none of them would know about the consequences of leaving town.

Sneezy made no eye contact with either of them as he checked out and bagged the items. After paying for them, Gold took the bag and Belle's hand.

"Have a nice nigh—I mean day!" Sneezy said. "You have a nice…day."

Gold narrowed his eyes at the man but Belle happily said, "Thank you. You too," before they left the drugstore.

-/-/-

Belle muttered as morning's light hit her eyes. She scooted further under the warm blankets, cringing as she moved her legs into another position. After their adventure the previous day at the pharmacy, she'd made sure Rum put those condoms to use. She felt a blush creep upon her cheeks and let out a giggle. Her behavior was scandalous, but he didn't seem to mind it. If he didn't, then she wouldn't. Back in their world women weren't supposed to do things like this until they were married, but that didn't matter to her now. This wasn't their old world after all. She'd have to keep reminding herself of that and not hold this world to the same standards. Besides, it wasn't as if she would ever want to marry anyone other than Rumple anyway.

She turned to the right so she could cuddle against her lover only to find he wasn't there. She stood from the bed, letting the covers drop back down to the mattress, and went into the bathroom to take a quick shower. After showering and getting dressed, she walked downstairs.

"Rum?" she said, though not loud enough for anyone to hear. When the smell of pancakes and sausage came to her nose, she walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in front of the stove. He wore his standard dark suit, sans jacket, and a dark red shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Over that was a red apron.

She walked behind him and put her arms around his waist, hugging him from behind the way he did her when she was cleaning or at the shop browsing all the trinkets. She rested her head against his back. "I hope I didn't embarrass you too much yesterday."

"Love?"

"At the drugstore place."

Gold shook his head. "Not at all."

"Are you just saying that because of last night?"

He looked over his shoulder and gave her that little crinkle of the face he carried when he was Rumple at the dark castle. He looked back at the stove. "No, but I'm not unhappy about last night."

She tiptoed so she could lean over his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "I'll go get the mail for you and leave you to your cooking." He looked so appealing that she knew if she didn't leave, he wouldn't be going into work today.

"Thank you love."

She patted through the hallway and opened the door, shivering where the morning air hit her. She moved to exit the house and nearly tripped on a box sitting in front of the doorway.

"Oh my," she said and looked back at the kitchen to make sure Rum wasn't coming. She rushed into a kneeling position and grabbed a letter nestled inside the large box filled with condoms and something in a bottle she'd never seen before. There were also fur covered cuff things that looked like shackles and a … feather? They were wrapped with a red bow.

She opened the folded piece of paper. " _Dear, Young Woman,_ " she read to herself. " _Here's a large amount of supplies for you. Mister Gold has been distracted as of late and we think you're the reason. Keep up the good work._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Citizens of Storybrooke."_

She grit her teeth. What was she going to do with all these? Rum would be so angry with the people in town if he spotted this. She hefted the box into her arms, moved to the edge of the porch, and dumped it behind a rosebush.

She grabbed the mail and rushed inside the house. Vowing to clean up the condoms and bottles and feathery items after Rum left for work.

Unfortunately, she found the library that day and had to explain to her love when he got home why there were sexual items decorating his favorite rosebushes.

* * *

 **AN: This was originally written right after the first season so at the time I had no idea how Belle would really be. I wish they'd gone for a slightly quirky naive Belle until she adapted. It would've been fun to see her adapt to things like toasters and put a tad bit of comic relief (God knows RB needed it) into the show. I mean, if you're thrown into a world like ours from a world like the Enchanted Forest, you're going to take a while to adapt after all. XD Anyway, hope you liked this one.**

 **This is dedicated to my best friend Rinoaebastel who has given me unwavering support during the hard times I've had recently. She has some really cute Rumbelle so check her out if you want some Rumbelle fluffiness.**


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